A Southern Drama
by darkbloodmoon
Summary: i have given it an R rating due to adult content. this is about Duo maxwell, a wealthy Plantation owner and Heero yuy, a Yankee from the north. Heero leaves Duo for war and the young Duo goes mad. this does not show my opinion on slavery. that is dead now


`"Fine then, leave! See if I does give anything about it! My life would be better without you anyway!" the door slammed and not a moment too soon as the sounds of breaking china against polished oak soon broke the quick silence that had slithered its way into the semi-dark corridor. House slaves frantically made way as a tall young white man with moss brown hair, strode through the giant oak and marble halls, the same grim look on his face as he had when he had entered the room five minutes before. It was another fight. As he made his way to the stables, slaves' stares followed him. Whispers often floated around when these fights occurred. They seemed to come more often now that the civil war is upon us. The north and the south are waging war over slavery and whatnot. Master Maxwell, the owner of the "Belle Mead" plantation was a young, rich southerner who was all for slavery. While his lover, Heero Yuy was a middle class Yankee from the north who had his own idea of how things should be done.  
  
"Give me my horse." Heero's voice was cold and a bit hard as he ordered the stable boy, Louis, to fetch his horse. Louis was well aware of why his voice was harder than usual and so he didn't pay mind. Word seemed to spread about there quicker than thoroughbreds at the racetrack.  
  
"Yous horse sir." He looked at Heero straight in the eye. "Wills our master's white slave come back this time?" his voice flooding with concern.  
  
"No Louis, I plan never to return to him." Louis looked to his feet in disappointment.  
  
"Then wills you come back to make us all freed mens?" a sudden silence filled the stable. Even the horses seemed to await the northerner's answer.  
  
"I will try." He flashed one last glance at Louis. He looked so much like his father, who now sat in his library nursing his injured ego. Before Duo had meet Heero in New Orleans, he occasionally slept with carefully selected slaves. By law, if a child is born of slave parent or parents, they were to be slaves as well. Almost all the plantation owners down south practiced this. Sleeping with the slaves and using the children as slaves. Heero couldn't stand that and the thought of it sickened him. He got up onto his horse and started at a canter towards to the main gates of the plantation.  
  
Some time later..  
  
"Lisa, what kind of rat poison is you tryin' to feed me now?! This ain't expectable." He threw the silver tray at the wall as the cook ran crying out of the room. The young master had been like this ever since the Yankee had left. Normally he was kind and loving even towards his slaves. Now, he was like an enraged lion. Furiously pacing back and forth in his den, locking himself in the library and when he wasn't doing that, he would go hunting and the next day a slave would be missing.  
  
The cotton-picking season was near and he would normally sit and watch as the slaves worked, occasionally offering help to those in need. Instead, he was beginning to make a habit of beating the slaves whom he had bought for Heero, or any one that he seemed to think looked like the muscular 18-year- old.  
  
One evening, a beautiful woman came to the gates claiming that she had been robed while off to see a relative. Two hours later, the young master had shot her to death claiming that she was a spy for the Yankees. The slaves all the way out in the fields could hear her screams as she begged for mercy. The atmosphere inside the house was building so thick; it was like invisible smog leaving everyone blind and jumpy. Then one night no one was too sure of what happened. The next day when Duo woke up, he had reconsidered his ways. He was kind and polite to the maids in the halls as he made his way to the dinning hall and this caught their attention in a very bad way. Phrases like "He is gone Mad." and "He is possessed by the devil." could be heard clearly around the grounds.  
  
Anita, as everyone knew, was a gift that the master had given his lover for his 16th birthday and was considered a trusted friend and nanna to Duo, whom she had raised as a child. He would ask her questions about his love and she would tell him the things he wanted to hear. One night, Anita was making her rounds to putout the candles that were scattered throughout the mansion when she heard a strange noise coming from the small reading den on the second floor. She opened the door and froze in both fear and shock. The room was dark and rain could be heard drumming on the roof. A lightning flash lit the room and she saw her master kissing and embracing her 17-year- old son Isaac. As she lifted her arm to her mouth to hold in her scream, the crazed white boy slowly pulled from his white silk undershirt, his pistol and pointed it at her. He broke the hold he had on the boy and turned his face towards Anita.  
  
The last thing she ever saw was her son moaning in his arms and his evil, sadistic smile spread widely across his face. He shot her six times, three in the chest, twice in the stomach and once in the head. The next day, the maids found both hers and her sons body laying on the cold ground covered in blood. That night the slaves held a meeting in one of the living cabins. The goals; either kill the master or bring back the Yankee to make him stop this massacre.  
  
No one was safe from his horror. A week after Anita and Isaac's deaths, three more slaves had been murdered. One by the name of George Washington had been raped then burned to death in an old cabin at the edge of the forest. Then a little girl named Kara was bled to death when she was forced to cut herself for the entertainment of her master. The third was the cook. She was hung for supposedly trying to poison the young Maxwell, and her body butchered and fed to the hunting dogs.  
  
Three months then pasted and the only original slave left was the stable boy, Louis. Duo, after all the killings, started to feel the pains of falling behind on his crop. He went down to New Orleans and returned with about thirty slaves to replace the 50 that he had lost. His health was fading fast and in addition to that, upon hearing the news that the south had surrendered and the Yankees had won; he flew into a rage unlike that of any time before. One evening, while Louis was walking to the kitchen, he was almost hit by a bronze vase, which was thrown out of the master's bedchamber. The new slaves were horrified at his behavior and kept in their small groups.  
  
While the slaves looked on in fear, the young Duo secretly waited for any news on the survival of Heero Yuy. He would cry his name out in his sleep while seeing images of his hacked up body lying in a bloody field while crows and ravens picked at his remains. He would be sitting in his den reading and hear his voice. He was losing an uphill battle with himself. He was wasting in morning. His time was drawing to a close.  
  
One year later..  
  
Heero Yuy made his way through the rot iron gates and down the stone path at a fast run. He had received all the news from Louis of what had happened while he was away. He also heard that the malnourished Maxwell was on his deathbed. Louis met him at the door and together they burst through the door and up the stairs to the third floor. When Heero walked in, he saw a terrible sight. There lye Duo in bed dead, his wrist hanging over the side of the bed. Heero stepped closer and saw that he'd bled himself to death. There in his right hand laid the knife, which did it. Heero's eyes began to water, he felt as if he had watched himself die that very day.  
  
As he sat on the edge of Maxwell's bed, he took notice of two letters sitting on his nightstand. He picked them up and read the first one.  
  
Dearest Maxwell,  
  
I am regretful to tell you this, but we have lost our beloved Heero Yuy. He passed away on August 16th at five thirty p.m. He is to be buried at his home in Maryland next week.  
  
Yours truly, Philip Atoll  
  
Heero snorted at this and read the next one.  
  
Louis,  
  
I am leaving everything I own to you and my beloved Heero Yuy. I am not sure if he be alive or not, but if he is, he gets half of everything. I want you to free the slaves if you like and keep the plantation as your own. I will forever miss you. my son.  
  
Your master, no, your father, Duo Louis Maxwell the third  
  
Heero's eyes started to over pour and he was overcome with sadness. He took another look at Duo's letter and realized it was written in blood and that there were visible tearstains. He put his hand on Duo's ice cold face and looked at the knife. He stood up and walked outside onto the balcony. There, all the slaves were standing, waiting to see what would happen.  
  
He looked down at them all, so tattered and torn. That's how he felt, tattered and torn.  
  
"You are all free now as declared by you old masters. Leave now."  
  
That night, Heero said goodbye to his loved one's body and to his own as well. He burned the whole plantation down and never lived to see it. Only Louis was there to morn the two's deaths. Only Louis.. 


End file.
